


Things My Parents Taught Me

by Kyzaiah



Series: The Untold Story of Xander Harris [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Gen, Guidance Counselors, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Its ok because we love you, Short Story, Therapy, Verbal Abuse, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 17:18:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20313160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyzaiah/pseuds/Kyzaiah
Summary: One of the reasons Xander never told anyone about the way his parents treated him was what happened the time he almost had.





	Things My Parents Taught Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as part of another work I felt like it didn't fit there but still needed to be posted. Some changes were made before posting as a standalone.
> 
> Beta'd by W1770W, thank you

It was middle school. His first year there. He was sitting in the guidance counselor's office twiddling his thumbs and trying to figure out words. The therapist was a kind enough woman with blonde hair tied back in a bun. She was sitting a short distance away from him in one of the other chairs. 

It wasn’t his first time in her office. Willow had been dragging him along during their lunch and he in turn would drag Jesse. The three of them would play games with the woman. She stocked a few board games and several card games but only one or two were worth playing. Wills liked it here and he had to admit it was nicer than the cafeteria. Only now that he was here alone it didn’t feel as so comfortable. A stale silence filled the room that was normally full of his friends’ laughter. 

She had been saying all these things about how she was someone ‘safe to talk to’ and ‘if ever you need something.’ That’s what led him to be here, not talking. It was one thing to say you were safe to talk to and it was another entirely actually be safe. 

“Not to rush you Xander but you are going to have to start talking eventually.”

He looked into her eyes and flinched a bit. There was nothing but kindness shining back at him. Still it took a moment to find a place to start talking.

“Uh, I didn’t do my homework last night.”

Not one to miss a beat, she picked up the little way he opened up to her. This young student was normally loud and playful when here with the much more quiet Willow. Now he seemed like a different person altogether.

“Is that uncommon for you?"

“No, not really. I usually forget unless Willow reminds me.”

She pondered only a moment before continuing where he left off. “But it feels important that you didn’t do it this time.”

There was that flinch again and he wasn’t even looking at her this time. Why was this woman being patient with him so terrifying? He nodded without taking his eyes from the hands in his lap. He was focusing on his fingers as he laced and unlaced them from each other.

“Would you like to talk about why you didn’t do your homework?”

He stopped shuffling his hands around in his lap at the question. He was here. That meant he wanted to talk about it. Right? His shoulders trembled with the steadying breath he made himself take in. Then he prepared himself to speak. 

“Well I actually meant to do my homework. Last night that is.” 

He dared himself to look up. The face that meet him was nothing but compassionate. He quickly flicked his eyes to the side. She continued to say nothing so he went on.

“The topic had kinda made sense for once so I wanted to do it.” Another pause. “ I couldn’t focus though.”

Now that he was talking it felt a little easier to keep going.

“My parents, uh, had been fighting. I was upstairs but they were really loud.”

“Do you know what they were fighting about?”

She had spoken again, and just as it was getting easier to talk. It surprised him a little bit, but it reminded him where he was. More importantly, where he wasn’t. Again his eyes turned to the woman sitting across from him. He was about to answer but then he found that he really couldn’t remember. This time he didn’t stop looking at her as he spoke.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But you think that this kept you from doing your homework?”

There was no judgement. She was barely even asking a question because it seemed like she was already sure of the answer. All he gave her was a nod.

“Do fights like this happen often?”

That wasn’t a question he was sure how to answer. It wasn’t that he didn’t know the answer. The answer was yes. Easily. The word was in his head the moment he heard her ask. They did argue. They did shout. It was all the time. But was it ok to say that? If he lied and said no would she dismiss him? In the end he just shrugged with his eyes glued down on the table.

He didn’t know how she took his response. He couldn’t see the wheels turning in her mind as she tried to puzzle him out. She didn’t take long to speak again so he didn’t have the time to dwell on it.

“This wasn’t the first time the arguments turned to shouting.”

“It wasn’t.”

“And is shouting all there is?” He looked up again confused, and she continued cautiously. “Are these arguments ever physical? Have either of them ever laid a hand on you or each other?”

He stared at her with eyes that had grown wide in the few seconds she took to ask this. Still she remained patient and waited for an answer. 

“No.” 

He denied it, and he denied it fast. It was a reflex and easier to say than his earlier admission. It was fear that made him deny it. That wasn’t a safe thing to bring up and he knew it. No matter how she reassured him. He knew it instinctually; he couldn’t, it wasn’t safe. 

“No of course not. Nothing like that has ever happened.” 

He was backpedaling. He was afraid she knew he was lying. “It’s just really loud.” Hopefully that was more believable. He felt trsnsparent. Like every thought he had was plastered on his forehead and telegraphed by his actions.

“Okay.”

It was an eternity in Xander’s mind waiting for that response. Now that it was here he started breathing again.

“ As long as you are safe.” She continued. “I mean no offence. It’s a responsibility of mine to ask that question. Sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

She was apologizing. That's a good thing, probably means she believes him.

“As far as the homework goes I can request an extension on your behalf. I don’t have to tell your teacher anything about this so don't worry about that.”

His relief was extreme. This was over now. That assignment was something so small that it probably hadn’t been worth all the effort but it was over.

She did end up getting him that extension. It was just one day but it was more than enough because he had it finished it before the school day ended. His teacher looked concerned and offered to listen should he ‘need to talk’. He had had enough of talking for awhile. Luckily, the teacher didn’t push the subject. He had learned today that he wasn’t comfortable with these adults. He faked a huge smile, said his thanks, then handed in the sheet and left as quickly as possible. 

The rest of the school day was a breeze. He had missed English for the meeting and was partway through math when back on his regular schedule. Those were his least favorites anyway. At least in history war was interesting and in science there was that sci-fi flare. Willow went to the counselor's office for lunch again, but this time without Jesse and himself. Instead the two had quality bro time in the cafeteria. After class finished he spent the remaining daylight with Jesse. They didn't talk about what happened that day or the night before. Instead they laughed over new and old jokes, ran around the park and forgot the rest of the world existed. When the sun started to melt into a rich orange on the horizon they finally admitted the outside world existed and parted ways. Still, saying goodbye didn't cut into the good mood the day had shaped for him.

Unfortunately, there was a cosmic law Xander had yet to learn about his life. A good day at school could only mean one thing: He would have a bad day at home. It seemed there had to be that balance. He could never just have a good day.

His father was up and pacing when the boy walked in the door. His mother was sitting at the kitchen table watching her husband move. Both looked his way when he entered the room.

“Xander.” His voice was loud and authoritative. It wasn’t so much a greeting as a statement that he was here. The man had stopped pacing and just stared at him. He set the mostly empty pint glass down on the table with a clink but didn’t stop staring. “Something happen at school today?”

“Uh, not really.” But the shuffling of his feet in the kitchen doorway gave him away.

“Oh?” In that second he knew it was the wrong answer. His good mood was gone. Someplace far away, maybe even in another country by now.

“See when I got home there was a voicemail from someone claiming to be a therapist at your school.”

The panic in him was rising steadily. He knew where this was going. He knew that his father was unhappy with him. “Everyone had to meet one of the counselors.” Excuses, always with the excuses. “She has games and uh Willow really likes eating lunch in her office.”

His dad didn’t listen or lose track of his point. ”She was asking questions about life here. Asking if things were ok.” He paused as if he had asked a question, but Xander had no question to answer. “Why would she be asking us that Xander?”

It wasn’t safe. She wasn’t safe. He couldn’t talk to her. He should have known he couldn’t talk to her. He knew that his father just asked him a question and he knew that he should respond but he was too scared.

“You don’t talk about us to people Xander. What happens at home stays at home.” 

He was listing things off and Xander didn’t think he was going to stop soon. The irony of it was that the second he walked in the door Xander knew he was being punished. He knew exactly what he had done and exactly what was going to happen. Now he was just waiting for it. He was waiting to be hit, or for something worse. Creative punishments were far more painful. As much as it hurt in the moment knew the physical aches healed eventually. Pain didn't scare him. Not knowing the punishment scared him.

“They don’t have any say over how family acts." His father continued. "They don’t have any right to know.”

If he was angry before this, suddenly he was furious, because now his voice was raised.  
“I didn’t realize you were so stupid I had to spell it out for you! Do you want them to take you away?”

He stopped yelling for a second and Xander shook his head vigorously from side to side. He was trying to hold back tears and afraid that if he attempted to speak they would come rushing out.

“And what was all that about not being able to get your homework done? Hadn’t ever stopped you before. You were just using us as an excuse. I didn't raise a liar who always looks for the easy way out.”

Xander looked to his mother as a lifeline but she gave him a pointed look that told him not to use her as an out. He was in this alone.

“The world doesn't work that way Xander! You don’t just get to play victim and let the world dance around you!” He took a breath and appraised his child silently with cold eyes. He continued talking in a voice that was deceptively calm.

“So what is it Xander? Are you a liar or just a moron?”

He wasn’t going to answer that. He couldn’t answer that. Was there an option C?

“I ever hear you’ve been talking about us again and there will be hell to pay you hear me?”

Xander nodded.

“Say it! Say you understand me!”

“Yes”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I understand you!”

“Good. Now that that’s done with, help your mother get some work done around here. Place looks like a mess.” He started walking over to the counter then gestured over to his side. 

“And put that case into the fridge so I have some cold ones.” 

With that he cracked open a can and flipped it over into his, not quite empty, pint glass. Then he was walking out to the living room like nothing had happened. Except Xander knew it had. He was trembling but all he could think was that he had been lucky. He just had to never talk about his parents fighting again and everything would be okay.

“He’s not exactly wrong but he was a bit too hard on you. It’s just his worry coming out.” 

She was still sitting at the table. She hadn’t stepped into the conversation but he hadn’t forgotten about her being there. It was more reassurance he had been in the wrong. His father hadn’t been shouting at everyone. He was just going after me, and she sanctioned it.

“It’s ok if you need to talk to someone, but if you do you should talk to us.” She stood up and grabbed his hand. “They don’t know us. They don’t know the family. They can’t understand the situation.” She brushed one of his longer brown hairs back off his face in a gesture that was nothing if not motherly.

He nodded, she smiled and then everything was back to normal. He noticed that there were cookbooks on the table open to various pages so he walked over to them. 

“I felt like trying to cook dinner for once. What do you want to eat? Once we have that started I was thinking we could make cookies or maybe pie. The box kind of course but it could still be a treat.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes the worst thing about abuse isn't the actual acts of violence but the things your mind is twisted into believing. The excuses you, and other people, make as to why the abuse is justified.


End file.
